WillowClan's Challenge
by reenakitty
Summary: The Writing Challenge of WillowClan dawns each month, and my one-shots must be put somewhere. Containing agnst, love, prettyfulness, and much to come throughout the seasons. Enjoy to your hearts content all you WillowClanners! Rated M for violence, just in case.
1. May: Ragged Edges

**Tis Shadowchan here, and I'm writing an entry to WillowClan's Writing Monthly Challenge. Or is it Monthly Writing Challenge . . . ? Enh.**

**Time will change, and so will names. ^^ If a name changes, so will have time.**

**Also, if any of you guys have read Smoke in the Shadows, or plan to, you can't read this one-shot. Many, many spoilers. Well, if you're in WillowClan you can, since it's the contest, but I would advise you not to. There is gore! D: You has been warned!**

**Prompt: **_It's never too late to live the life you've always wanted. It's never too late to correct past wrongs._

**Ragged Edges**

* * *

Clawblossom felt worn. The leaf-bare had been harsh, and her old bones were practically creaking whenever she tried to move. She growled in annoyance as a sharp pain lanced through her back as she tried to lay down in a different position. The elders den tilted, and she suddenly found herself on the ground, her head spinning.

She breathed out, slowly, trying to get her heartbeat to settle. Even moving hurt. _Everything_ hurt. She pushed herself into a half crouching position, and her foreleg ached.

_Why must every movement be painful? _Clawblossom grumbled silently to herself. She sighed. She deserved to hurt. She deserved pain beyond meaning.

_I'll be in the Dark Forest soon, _she mused darkly.

Clawblossom almost heard Stormheart beside her. _It was for the best, _she would say, _we're smarter cats now._

_ Why couldn't we have been smarter then? We could have stopped everything! We could have just been normal!_

_ It was unavoidable._

_ We could have stopped!_

Clawblossom wanted to wail aloud. She saw the kits playing in the clearing, the sunlight dappling their pelts into whirling colors that made her eyes water. She could have had kits of her own, stopped Stormheart from taking hold of her life. But Clawblossom knew she had been just a mouse in Stormheart's claws, just a tool to the white she-cat. Her head bowed, her eyes pressed shut.

_Where did I go astray?_

….

Clawpaw shivered violently.

_How?_ How had she done this?

The unmoving lump of black and white fur lay still on the ground, ribbons of blood blossoming through the black grass. Clawpaw's own paws were shimmering in the moonlight, drenched with dripping red. _How? How, how, how?_

She couldn't stop the wave of revulsion that flowed over her pelt, making it stick straight into the frigid night air. The blood on her paws was the only hot thing, sticky and salty against her claws. It stench wreathed in the air, taunting her. _We know what you did. We saw. You're bad. You're worse._

Clawpaw relived it over and over. Her own claws sinking into the black and white fur, a blood curdling screech, red splattering the flickering, moonlit ground. She couldn't process it; the cat, dead on the ground before her. _How?_ It didn't seem real. Just a nightmare she would wake up from. But she couldn't run to her mother or father after she woke up, because they were gone, as dead as the unmoving black and white fur.

But there was no nightmare to wake up from.

Her eyes glazed over. _What have I done? This is unforgivable. How will I live, knowing that I've killed?_

The air sunk into her fur, unmoving. The shadows and moonlight played with the fur on the ground, flipping the colors from white to black, and to black to white. _A game. Just a game. _The death was gone, and there was just switching colors, black white, white black,_ red_, always red ―

Clawpaw pressed her eyes closed as the ground tilted forward. When she opened them, her cheek was pressed against the Earth, grass caressing her face with its silky black fingers. Her claws were sunk deep into the dirt in front of her, breaking apart the carefully packed soil. She had done it. She had done what she had asked her to do.

"Good work."

Clawpaw closed her eyes again.

"Get up."

Clawpaw did as she was told, without opening her eyes. Her paw brushed fur, and her willpower relented, showing her a glimpse of a black paw touching her own as she opened her eyes. The claws of the black paw were still curved out, snagged bits of creamy fur on them. Clawpaw's own fur. She looked up to see the white stretch of the foreleg. The staring, bright green eyes, dulled forever; glinting with reflections of the stars they couldn't see.

"Look at me."

Clawpaw glanced up, her gaze hollow. The white she-cat was staring at her intensely, a wondering look in her eyes. She was the color of new-fallen snow, with black splotches on the undersides of her forelegs. The only thing black besides her legs was her tail; as dark as night from the base up. Her eyes glinted oddly, one bright blue, the other a dark green.

"Why?" Clawpaw's voice cracked as if she hadn't drank for sunrises. "Why? How can this help―"

"Silence," her voice sliced through Clawpaw's accusation. "It's all part of the plan."

"But how can you do this?" Clawpaw whispered. "How can you kill cats like it's nothing?"

She smiled crookedly, tilting her head to the side like a curious kit. The angle made moonlight fall on her green eye, and plunge her blue eye into shadow. "Practice."

Clawpaw shivered.

"So you do not get the satisfaction that I get, it seems?" she laughed at Clawpaw's dead expression. "Well, at least you were able to do it. Not many cats of eight moons manage to accomplish a task such as this."

Clawpaw's head whipped up, her heart beating rapidly. The white she-cat never gave praise. " . . . Really?"

The white she-cat nodded, her face darkened by the drifting shadows. "Really. Can you do something else for me?"

_She wants me to kill someone else._

"From ShadowClan?" Clawpaw whispered, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. _Please, don't make me kill another clanmate_―

The she-cat purred lightly. "No, just someone from RiverClan."

This information made Clawpaw feel only slightly better. Killing a cat was still killing a cat. The stench of blood was clogging her senses.

"Is every job I get going to be . . . killing?" her heart sank as she saw the she-cat's mismatched eyes flash. Anger from _her_ was dangerous. She sunk to the ground, her belly scraping against the dry earth.

"We will see." the she-cat smiled her crooked smile, her anger dissipating into the wind.

Clawpaw's breath was shaky. "Will I have to kill another clanmate?"

Her smile grew wider. "Depends."

_On what? What do I have to do to stop?_

"Please, Storm―"

The white she-cat purred. "No. I am just simply not sure yet. Now, follow me."

Storm turned and bounded out of the moonlight and into the misty shadows. Clawpaw hesitated for a second, looking back at the lump of black and white fur. It shimmered in the icy moonlight, fooling her eyes into seeing the sides rising slowly with breath. But the cat was gone, and nothing would change that. No spirit lingered.

Clawpaw turned fully around to walk back to the body. The green eyes stared into the sky, seeming to glint with sorrow. She closed them gently, and the cat would have looked like it was sleeping, if not for the gaping wound at its throat. Blood still dribbled onto the grass around her paws.

Clawpaw crouched beside the cat; the cat she had known forever, the one that had been by her side for so long, like a second mother after her first died.

"I'm sorry Windshadow," she whispered, her voice breaking. _I'm so unbearably sorry._

Suddenly, it felt as if a pelt was pressed against her own, icy and cold. Frosted breath was on her ear, and she barely heard the words that were breathed through the frigid night air.

"_It's too late for apologies."_

….

"Hey!"

Clawblossom cracked open an eye, anger rushing through her. That was the first time she had gotten some real sleep in sunrises! A tiny white kit was in front of her, it's green eyes sparkling.

_She almost looks like Stormheart._

"Hi Clawblossom!" the kit trilled, her tail waving in the air behind her. "Can you tell me a story?"

"No," she growled, her fur bristling. "Go bother your mother, Frostkit."

"But Lilybreeze is busy!" Frostkit whined, "and I'm _so_ bored! Please can you tell me a story? Just one little story?"

"I said no!" Clawblossom snarled. "Get out of my sight!"

"But I have nothing to do!" Frostkit's whine was more evident now. "Please, I just want to hear about Smokefrost!"

"I'm not telling any stories, so shoo," Clawblossom growled, turning away from the tiny white she-cat. _Can't it just take a hint?_

"I want a story!"

"That's too bad."

" . . . Please?"

"_No!_"

Clawblossom turned to tell the kit to leave, and saw that she had disappeared._ Good riddance. _She lay her head on her paws, her breath quickening. Too much exertion was not good. Frostkit was the most annoying of all the kits, always begging for a story of Smokefrost, her namesake.

Smokefrost and Frostkit's mother, Lilybreeze, were littermates. They had been close, and when the great Prophecy of Smoke was leaked through the clan, it was said that Smokefrost would be ShadowClan's savior. She had disappeared for many moons in her apprenticeship, and when she had come back, she had news of the Rogue's coming attack. She helped defeat the fierce enemy, and everyone lived 'happily ever after.'

_Stupid she-cat._

Everything Clawblossom had worked for was with the rogues, and Smokefrost had ruined all the careful plans Storm had made.

Yet that still hadn't mattered in the end.

Smokefrost had been closely intertwined with the murders, having seen the first one herself as a kit. Storm had been working since she was five moons old, training in combat and murder. Smokefrost had been Smokekit when the rogue's first murders took place, and she fought to stop them. Clawpaw had tried to follow Smokekit into the forest one time, and that was when she had first met Storm.

She had been nice, helpful, always treating her like a warrior. Clawpaw hadn't known that Storm was a murderer, until all the truth rushed out. She hadn't known what to do. Her one and only friend was a murderous rogue, bent on the destruction of her own clan.

_ What other choice did I have?_

Storm was so kind, so beautiful, so energetic and happy. She lured Clawpaw in, twisting her decisions, making it seem as if the murders had a purpose.

_And they did_ . . . but Clawblossom wasn't so sure.

Then Storm joined ShadowClan, taking on the place of a helpless, hungry loner.

Smokefrost, Smokepaw then, had always hated Storm, and was suspicious. Clawblossom's ears flattened. Smokepaw had always been in the way, and Clawpaw had once heard her talk of Storm being familiar with her sister. But Clawpaw had never been sucked in by such trickery.

Storm became a part of the clan, and everyone found her as alluring as Clawpaw had. She started making new friends, getting closer and closer to the mousebrain Emberpaw. Storm insisted that Clawpaw was her only friend, but the apprentice knew different.

Smokepaw and Lilypaw were always persistent, but their only other littermate didn't stay away from Clawpaw.

Gorsepaw.

Clawblossom's head bowed, and bitter sadness took hold of her heart.

….

"What do you want to be? A good fighter? Hunter?" Clawpaw tried to make conversation, but the moon was rising higher, and Storm was expecting her.

"I just want to be loyal to my clan."

Clawpaw brushed against his warm, gorse-colored fur. "I guess so, too."

He looked down on her. "I also want to be the best that I can be."

Her fur grew hot as he looked away, and she felt a tingling in her stomach. Why was she always nervous around him?

"Gorsepaw . . . ?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think . . . do you think that I could be a good warrior?" her face burned as her gaze dropped from the moon to her paws, and she felt him looking at her. She was always wondering, because she had no mother, father, or close friends to ask. Her only friend, Birchpaw, was too ignorant, and Windshadow . . . was gone. She winced as her heart clenched. Storm also wouldn't know the answer, not being clanborn.

"Of course!" Gorsepaw purred, nudging her with his shoulder. "What kind of question is that? You'll be a great warrior! You're fast, smart, and you have really long claws," his joking tone almost broke her heart.

_ You would hate me if you knew what I've done. _"Thanks."

"No problem. Oh, I'm cold!" he pressed closer to her, and she looked away from his warm blue eyes, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Her paws felt hot, and she shuffled them in the cool grass.

"Sorry!" he said, pulling back, his eyes wide.

"It's okay," she muttered, her gaze dropping to her paws. "I'm just a bit jumpy tonight."

"How so?" he pressed their pelts together again, and she shivered.

"I'm just . . ."―she sighed―" I'm just scared about the murders." Her tail was flicking continually now in discomfort.

His gaze darkened. "Yeah; I was shocked when they found Emberpaw's mom. Windshadow was always nice to us."

Clawpaw's eyes widened, and she tried to hide her thumping heart. "I―I, uh, yeah, no one would ever expect her to go off in the woods like that . . ."

His gaze narrowed in worry. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." But Clawpaw felt like she was going to fall over, her head tilting dizzily. She wanted to admit it, right then and there, everything that she had done. But she knew she couldn't, because he would immediately hate her. She could imagine his face twisted into a snarl of shock and loathing. She looked up into his concerned expression. She especially didn't want _him_ to hate her. Tears filled her eyes, and she glanced away.

"It's getting late . . ." she said quietly, her tail flicking.

"Yeah," he agreed, getting up. He touched his nose to hers, and happiness flared in her chest again. He didn't hate her.

And he would never find out.

"Bye," she whispered, smiling.

Gorsepaw grinned back. "Bye! You come back to camp soon, okay?"

Clawpaw nodded. He turned and bounded away through the undergrowth. She sat, the moonlight spilling over her pelt. Was this what it was like to feel utterly happy? She purred softly to herself. But then the weight of her 'favors' for Storm fell back onto her shoulders. She would never be as carefree as Gorsepaw. He would be happy, loyal, brave and loving, while she sat in the shadows with the rest of the traitors. Her ears flattened, and her tail drooped to the ground. She and Gorsepaw could never be anything more than friends, because she would always have to lie to him.

She swirled a single, long, black claw in the grass before her. Would he really hate her if she had told him? She wanted to believe that he wouldn't, but there just wasn't that option. She was a murderous traitor to the clans, and he would always be loyal. He would probably find a mate with . . . Cloverpaw, and forget all about her. He would grow old, have kits, protect his clan.

She would be found out in a few moons, and she would be banished with the rest of the rogues.

Clawpaw started crying softly, her shoulders hunched and her head lowered. Why had she done this? She had killed and eavesdropped, and for what? Glory? Popularity? To live among _rogues_? All the possibilities flashed through her head, and she felt lost; so unbearably lost.

Something crackled in the bushes and her weeping stopped. There was more rustling in the undergrowth, and she jumped silently to her paws, all the lethal training Storm had given her pounding through her veins. Whoever it was couldn't be stupid enough to be that loud, but still stay completely out of sight.

Someone wanted her to come.

Clawpaw started forward through the bushes, her paws falling into little pools of water as she made her way across the marsh. Whoever was leading her made noise, but was still unseen.

Suddenly, there was a strangled cry. Clawpaw froze. The scream was suddenly muffled, cut off.

She raced forward, now not following anything. Her heartbeat almost burst from her chest, one single beat ringing true, _no, no, no, no_―

She burst into a small, dry clearing in the middle of the marsh. Storm was standing over something that was squirming under her claws; something that had heartbreakingly familiar, gorse-colored fur.

"_Clawpaw_―" Storm shoved Gorsepaw's face viciously into the dirt before he could finish his sentence.

"Gorsepaw― I, I . . ." she stared at Storm, terror on her face. "Please, Storm! I beg you!" she wailed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I―I'll do anything, just please―"

Storm's hiss sliced through her words like icy claws. "_No!_ You defied me! You cannot have any distractions, don't you remember, you insolent kit!" her face was livid, her eyes wild and dangerous. Her gaze flashed to Gorsepaw, trembling in the dirt, and she raked her claws down the side of his face. Blood splattered the dusty ground, and he yowled in agony, his eye blinded. Clawpaw cried out in horror, and tried to rush forward to help. Storm knocked her out of the way with a single kick from her hindleg, the blow sending her flying back several tail-lengths. The breath was crushed out of her chest as she crumpled into the dust, gasping on the ground, her eyes streaming.

"This I will not let you have!" Storm snarled, bringing her claws up, high in the air. They glinted wickedly in the moonlight, blood flicking from them and onto the ground. Her mismatched gaze was glinting with a terrible, murderous fury that Clawpaw had never seen before.

Storm brought her paw crashing down on Gorsepaw's throat, and it seemed as if he were torn in two. Blood spurted everywhere from around Storm's claws, her screech of anger mingling with Gorsepaw's howl of defiance and pain. Clawpaw struggled to her feet, nausea rolling over her in waves. She used the last of her strength to spring at Storm, barreling her over.

They fell to the ground. Clawpaw had Storm pinned beneath her, and all she wanted to do was claw and rip her face until she felt as much pain that she and Gorsepaw had. Storm's anger melted into her usual cool demeanor.

"You're going to kill me? Over a little tom that got in the way of our plan?" her voice was not scared, but cold and calculating.

All Clawpaw could manage was a broken whisper. "_How could you?_"

"He doesn't mean anything to me. He's just like all the other cats that I've killed." Her odd eyes glinted maliciously.

Clawpaw screwed her eyes shut and lifted her claws. Storm was like mist, melting away from underneath of her paws. Clawpaw looked up.

She was gone.

She couldn't have killed Storm. It wasn't part of the plan. She had to stick to it, or she'd be nothing; now that Gorsepaw was gone.

Clawpaw turned to Gorsepaw, her heart feeling as if it were made of ice. He lay, twisted, a couple of tail-lengths ahead, blood drying in his matted fur. He seemed to be choking, and she pushed her paws faster, stumbling forward.

He gazed up her with one, sad eye. So much was said in that moment, his thoughts becoming clear in his last sorrowful look.

"I . . . I . . ." He coughed, blood splattering from his muzzle. Clawpaw shivered, and pressed her pelt against his.

"I'm sorry."

"I . . . I need . . . tell . . . you . . . important . . ." Coughs racked his body, and she felt his heartbeat become weaker and more irregular. He couldn't get any more words out. His coughing got more and more violent, blood speckling the dust around his muzzle. Clawpaw pressed her cheek into his side, trying to give him comfort.

His heart finally stopped, and his eyes widened. His gaze stared into the distance, and he looked like he had never seen anything so beautiful.

_ Gorsepaw, I'm sorry._

….

Tears ran down Clawblossom's cheeks as she sobbed quietly. She was curled in a tight ball in the back of the elders den, the shadows caressing her pelt gently, as if telling her not to worry, and not to cry. The sadness welled in her heart, bitter and terrible. Her bony shoulders hunched, and her claws pricked the nest material under her trembling body. No one could see her or give her comfort. There was no one.

_How could I have done all that? And I thought it was for the good of my spieces! I thought they deserved to die, the nameless rogues, Windshadow, Sandwing, Gorsepaw, Fangfoot, Fallenpaw _– She cried harder, her face shoved into the leaves of the walls. _It was all worth nothing! There is nothing worth the suffering of my clanmates._

Light filtered through the den entrance, and Clawblossom tried to compose herself. She wouldn't let anyone see her in such a state. The tears dried on her face, and she buried her muzzle into the moss under her paws. After all those seasons, she was again wondering, _how? How, how, how?_

"Clawblossom? Clawblossom, are you alright?"

The elderly she-cat licked her paws, and quickly combed them over her face hurriedly. She turned, and tried to put on a contemptuous look, but she felt cold to the core. "What do you want, Frostpaw?"

The white apprentice looked at her uncertainly, concern in her bright blue eyes. "You haven't been in the clearing in moons! You didn't even come out for my apprentice ceremony," Frostpaw's ears flattened.

"I just don't have the energy anymore."

She snorted. "I doubt that!" Clawblossom's fur bristled, but she heard the note of insincerity in her voice. Frostpaw didn't think Clawblossom would last much longer. She lowered her head in sadness. Soon, she would only have the shadowy traitors of the clans for company. Her ears flattened. She _was_ one of the shadowy traitors of the clans.

"Frostpaw . . ."

"Yes?" the white apprentice's ears pricked.

"I'm sorry."

". . . For what?"

But Clawblossom stayed silent. She curled into a tight ball again in the shadows. She heard Frostpaw shuffle her paws, but she then began cleaning away the old moss in silence. She left the den without another word, hesitating in the entrance for a heartbeat.

Shoulders hunched, Clawblossom tried not to cry again. She was trembling, the light of the day not reaching into the dark corner where she lurked.

_How could I have done it all?_

She hadn't even noticed she was asleep, but noise in the clearing awoke her. Someone was talking right outside of the den. She strained her old ears, and heard the pretty voice of Brightstar. She also recognised Hollyfall, the new medicine cat after Rainear died.

". . . everything running smoothly?"

"Yes, it's just that the tensions are very high with RiverClan. I wouldn't be surprised if the dawn patrol came back with news of a skirmish."

"I hope not, Brightstar, we're not in shape enough to take a full fledged battle."

"I know, but it might be unavoidable. How's Cloverwind doing?"

"Don't worry, it's just an infected pad, she'll survive. You don't have to be scared for your deputy's life. She'll be fine."

"I'm just worried . . . what about . . ." the leader dropped her voice to a whisper that she could barely hear. "What about Clawblossom?"

There was silence. Clawblossom just had time to lower her head again and shut her eyes before Hollyfall's head ducked through the entrance of the elders den. Her silhouette paused for a heartbeat, before disappearing again into the light-filled clearing.

"I don't know, she looks pretty bad."

There was a couple of moment of silence, and Clawblossom could feel her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

"How long do you think she'll last?"

More silence.

". . . Not long."

_Serves me right, _Clawblossom thought bitterly. It was final, she only had so much longer to live. And then she would go to basically a living hell.

_I ruined my entire life. It's too late to fix anything._

….

Clawpaw was crouched in the shadows of her den, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

_When are they coming? Come on!_

The moon was high in the sky, just a single night from full, and shining at its peak. The rest of the world was plunged into darkness, Clawpaw's eyes glinting from the shadows. Her paws were the only things stretching out into the moonlight, her unsheathed claws glinting wickedly.

_Where are they?_

A yowl suddenly pierced the cool air. Muttering broke out among her denmates, who started to stretch and glance around with wary eyes like stars in the dark.

Clawpaw tried not to look too eager. Her final moment; her final chances to show to the Shadows that she was worth being one of their rogues! She crept out of hiding an into the clearing. Everything was plunged into dense moonlight, the grass flickering with silver like and ocean of stars. There were more yowls now, getting closer, mingling together in a single blood-curdling howl. The camp was alive, half asleep clan cats shoving their way out of their warm dens and into the shivering cold.

"What is the meaning of this?" Brightstar cried, stepping forward with her eyes ablaze. "What is happening?"

Storm stepped forward. "The time is now!" her call was defiant and cold, but something was glimmering in her eyes.

Uncertainty.

_ What?_

She leaped on Brightstar without a sound, and Clawpaw saw terrible shock and realization flooding the leader's face. The clan would have been on top of Storm in a second, if not for the wave of felines that flooded from the camp walls. ShadowClan knew nothing of what was happening, and disappeared under the tide of rogues that lept, screeching, onto them. Screams of bloodlust and terror echoed through the camp walls, and Clawpaw let out a caterwaul herself, leaping on a rogue a few tail-lengths away. The tom snarled terribly and kicked her off, slicing off a pawful of fur from her leg. She cried out in pain, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm on your side!" she yowled, squirming as he pinned her down under his huge, hooked claws.

He shoved his muzzle into her face, twisted with rage. His breath smelled of crowfood, and she gagged, trying to twist away. He showed no sign of surprise at her statement.

"It better stay that way. Storm and I don't take traitors."

Then he melted away, and she was free to scramble to her paws, wincing at the small wound on her shoulder. She whipped her head around, her gaze darting to all sides, trying to find Storm. Her eyes found the white she-cat in a terrible battle with Cloverpaw and Birchpaw, who looked bloody and torn. They were lost from her sight, and she looked around more, this time for an opponent.

She saw Fallenpaw dragging himself over the ground, his leg limp and matted with blood. As soon as his eyes found Clawpaw, they lit up in fierce hope.

_I'm sorry._

She leaped at him with a high-pitched snarl, sinking her claws into his shoulders as she landed. His eyes widened, and he seemed too shocked to make a sound.

"Clawpa―?" He couldn't finish saying her name, as she ducked down and buried her fangs into his throat. He screeched in shock and terror, and she felt the blood running down his neck and her legs, streaming onto the cool grass. It was hot and sticky in her fur, and tangy and salty in her mouth; all she felt was the terrible want to bite _down_, all the way. She shook her head back and forth viciously, and she felt the sick thump of his limp head on her shoulder as it was flung from side to side.

She finally stopped, panting, and dropped his limp body. It hit the ground with a dull thud, the neck flopping at an odd angle. The light had long since faded from his eyes, and he was left with a grimace of pain and shock. She shuddered and stepped away, the spell of bloodlust leaving her body. Everyone was so amerced in the battle that not a single cat saw her kill her fellow apprentice. Her head bowed, and a single tear dropped onto Fallenpaw's tabby fur. It mixed with the flow of blood that was running from his neck.

Something slammed into her side, barreling her over. She gave a startled cry, before disappearing underneath a caterwauling ball of matted gray fur. She battered her back paws at the she-cat's belly with her claws sheathed, and the rogue did the same.

"You're on our side?" the rogue she-cat hissed as she pretended to claw Clawpaw's face with feathery paws.

"_Yes!_" she pinned the she-cat down, sinking her teeth into her shoulder. Clawpaw stopped when her teeth pricked flesh, and the she-cat writhed, screeching, as if the bite actually hurt. She wriggled from underneath of Clawpaw, and sprinted into the fighting again. Clawpaw smirked. The fake fight probably made it look like she was actually fighting for ShadowClan. The cream-colored apprentice looked around with wild eyes, before spotting a frosty silver-gray pelt.

_Smokepaw._

Clawpaw knew what she did was stupid, but she couldn't help it. Just as Smokepaw whirled around to face her, she raked her claws across the apprentice's muzzle, yowling in fury. So much anger and annoyances had been caused by the stupid she-cat, and Clawpaw couldn't control herself.

"_What are you doing?_" Smokepaw screeched, her face livid. She apparently couldn't keep back her temper, and sprang onto Clawpaw, pinning her down.

She wriggled out from underneath Smokepaw, smooth as a snake. She forgot all the fancy killing blows Storm had taught her, and had just one thought blazing through her mind:_ I need to cause her pain._ "I'm doing what I should have done moons ago!"

Smokepaw screamed in rage and tried to rake her claws down Clawpaw's face. She spun away, nicking her claws on Smokepaw's shoulder. The gray apprentice was quick though, and whirled around, ready for a counter attack; springing on Clawpaw. She screeched and tried to wriggle away, but Smokepaw sunk her claws into the cream-colored apprentice's shoulders, giving her sharp pains if she moved at all.

Suddenly, light dawned in Smokepaw's eyes. "We're _clanmates_!" she spat in disgust. The weight disappeared off of Clawpaw, and Smokepaw lept away into the battle.

Clawpaw's ears burned in shame. She had let herself be beaten by the measly gray apprentice! She growled in frustration and flung herself into battle, furiously clawing her rogue allies without sheathing her claws. She was furious, but she still didn't want to give her traitorous position away to ShadowClan.

She jumped onto a golden tabby she-cat and clawed her blindly, rage pounding through her chest. The she-cat writhed and screeched, pushing her away.

"Stupid kit! Aren't you the one that's on our side?"

Clawpaw snarled and flung herself away from the rogue she-cat, jumping onto a gray tom. He had familiar tabby stripes, and when he saw her, his eyes widened.

"Clawpaw! What are you―?" She sunk her teeth into Fangfoot's neck, his screech of fury mingling with the other screams in the blood-soaked clearing. He fell away from her jaws, choking and convulsing, drowning in his own blood. She shuddered, and stepped away from him, throwing herself back into battle.

But suddenly, the fighting stopped. Screeches of terror sounded through the camp, and Clawpaw saw with shock that it was coming from the Shadows, rather than from the huddled ShadowClan cats.

A bloody she-cat limped through the crowd, pushing her way to the front with a terrible snarl. The rogues watched with wide eyes as the cats parted to show a white she-cat crouching over a tom. The tom was the very one that had attacked Clawpaw in the beginning, and the she-cat had familiar, wild, mismatched eyes.

"_Storm_ . . . ?" Clawpaw whispered, terrified.

"What are you doing Storm?" Brightstar's voice rang around the bloody clearing, high and cold; Clawpaw realized that she was the limping she-cat. "Why are you about to kill your own leader?"

Storm appraised her with an equally cold voice. "He is not my leader."

Mutters echoed across the camp, rogues and ShadowClan cats alike. Storm's treachery to ShadowClan was known widely.

"Then who is?" Brightstar raised her head, slightly taller than the young Storm.

"You."

Shocked voices rippled around the clearing now, and a few rogues snarled, their fur bristling.

"What will you do?" Brightstar didn't seem shocked in the least. Storm looked down at her former leader, ice in her eyes.

"I'm going to kill him."

….

_"Clawblossom! Stormheart! Clawblossom! Stormheart!" the cheers rang around the clearing, and Stormheart showed a rare smile, her eyes glimmering with a happiness that Clawblossom had never seen before._

_ She didn't feel happy at all._

_ When the camp cleared as cats went to their dens, Stormheart settled herself beside Clawblossom, a small smile on her face._

_ "I'm glad I made the right choice," she whispered, purring softly._

The right choice? You ruined my life!

_ "How can you say that?" Clawblossom snarled under her breath, and Stormheart's eyes hardened. "You killed so many cats! You made _me_ kill too!"_

_ "You chose to help me," Stormheart's fur was bristling._

_ "You . .. you _forced_ me to!" but Clawblossom knew that she __could have stopped it if she tried._

_ Stormheart's ears flattened as she looked out into the distance. "I changed. Simple as that."_

Clawblossom's eyes flashed open as yowls echoed around the clearing. She had a rush of deja-vu, and suddenly wondered if she was dreaming again. But when she tried to leap to her paws, her old muscles screamed in protest and she crumpled into her nest. She managed to stand up, ever so slowly, and limp to the entrance of the den. The beginnings of dawn was just shedding its rosy light over the forest, and writhing masses of cats could be seen, blood splattering the newborn sunlight. The image was wrong; such a peaceful, loving hour of StarClan's wasn't meant to be misused like this.

"ShadowClan! Stay strong!" it was Cloverstar, yowling over the screams of the fray.

It all happened too fast.

Her clanmates were fighting with their all, but the battle was clearly being lost. The ShadowClan forces were withering quickly, and RiverClan had brought a full fighting team. They moved through the ShadowClan cats with flawless ease, breaking down any attempted walls of defense. Her clanmates were outnumbered, desperately trying to stay alive.

Her gaze fell on Lilybreeze, who was trying to hold her own against a huge gray tabby. The RiverClan tom jumped on her, and she whipped away, but one paw slid out from underneath of her, and she fell to the ground. The tabby was on top of her instantly, and Clawblossom heard Frostpaw's mother's scream of agony over the roar of the battle_._

_ I have to stay hidden._

Her ears flattened. She didn't hear much truth in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rang through the clearing. It was high and full of blood-curdling fear. It made Clawblossom's fur bristle, piercing her insides. Her eyes widened. She knew who was making the horrible sound.

_Frostpaw._

Clawblossom staggered into the clearing, her legs hardly holding her. She tried to run, and managed a broken, limping trot, dodging hordes of fighting cats. Snarls and screeches ripped through the morning air, the stench of blood burrowing into her fur.

Something crashed into her side, and she numbly noticed herself flying through the air. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, and felt the breath crushed from her chest. She gasped for air as the tom sunk his claws into her fur.

_ No, I have to . . . Frostpaw . . ._

Clawblossom struggled to push the tom off of her body, but he was too immense.

_I have to fight for my clan!_

She growled croakily and desperately tried to claw him. He chuckled blatantly, and pushed down her struggling paws.

"You'll be dead soon granny. Better not push it." He leaped off her and disappeared into the fray of screeching cats.

She pulled herself off the ground and onto her paws. Her legs trembled terribly, hardly holding up her weight any longer.

_I have to . . ._

She struggled forward, searching the battle. Several enemy warriors watched, laughing aloud when they saw her struggling. But they didn't attack, and that was what was important.

Another scream pierced the air, and Clawblossom used the last of her strength to rush forward, towards the source of the heartbreaking cry. And there, writhing under a golden tom, was Frostpaw. Her pelt was torn and bloodied, her eyes dull. Clawblossom took a step forward, a growl rumbling in her throat. The RiverClan warrior didn't notice her. She took another painful step, her sides heaving for breath. She had never felt such exhaustion in her life.

Another step.

Clawblossom's heart felt like it would burst from her chest. Her vision blurred double, and she stumbled. She just managed to see Frostpaw get a terrible slash to her face.

_ No!_

With the last drop of her strength, Clawblossom leaped at the tom, her claws outstretched as far as they would go. A band of sunlight spilled through the clouds, blinding her vision and blocking her sight of the tom. Endless energy seeped into her muscles and she felt as if she could fly with StarClan.

_ This is it._

Her claws tore into the tom's side, and she barely heard his snarl of pain. All she felt was light and strength, unfeeling to the open hole that was torn into her throat. Frostpaw screamed again, this cry in terror.

Clawblossom thumped to the ground, her moment of strength fading. Blood pooled under her neck and she suddenly realized, it was never too late, she could fix the mistakes of the past.

"I'm sorry, Frostpaw . . . tell them all that I'm sorry . . ."

"Clawblossom!" the apprentice wailed, "Clawblossom no! Please―"

"Tell them . . . I'm sorry . . . my treachery . . ." But she was floating away.

Clawblossom closed her eyes, no longer feeling the ground under her pelt. The earth was gone, disappearing from reality.

She finally opened her eyes, expecting the gripping shadows of the Dark Forest to greet her.

But instead, she saw the brightness of stars.


	2. June: Uncertainty

**Yaaay! It's finally the June Writing Challenge for WillowClan! I present to you, my entry~ Anyone recognize this scene?**

**There, a nice short read for you Pony ^^ Only 1,768 words!**

**Prompt:**_Things which matter most should never be at the mercy of things which matter least._

**Without further ado~**

**Uncertainty**

* * *

Mist couldn't help but stare at the newcomers. How strange they were! She was fascinated. They were all cats, but the strange ones from the forest spoke differently, stood with a greater intensity, and their eyes flashed warily as if everything was to be feared. And the silver tom – there were murmurings that he was the one that the Tribe of Endless Hunting had chosen to save them.

She followed Stoneteller quietly, Star falling into step beside her. Crag was just the slightest bit ahead, his tail trailing near Mist's paws. The forest cats were grouped in a single, ragged group, each cat's eyes like tiny stars in the dim light. They looked wary, yet curious, just as Mist felt herself. Stoneteller approached them with ease.

Six pairs of glittering eyes flashed to the small group of Tribe cats. Mist watched them intensely, trying futilely not to look so curious. The first one her eyes fell upon was a small ginger she-cat with bright green eyes. She had the stance of a small and rather aggressive tiger, hostility and caution burning through her gaze. Standing next to her protectively was a large, dark tabby with broad shoulders and dark amber eyes. He was so large, his size could easily confuse him to have a greater age, but he too was young. A tortoiseshell she-cat was brushing pelts against the dark tom's, her green eyes alight with curiosity. Although they looked as if they could be from different worlds, Mist saw a strange similarity in their stances.

_Siblings?_

The next two were the obvious siblings of the group, their bright tabby silver fur glimmering in the shadows of the main cave. Though the tom was darker in pelt color, they both had the same body shape, fast and agile. The she-cat had blue eyes, and the tom amber. Sitting next to the she-cat with their fur brushing, was a small black tom, his hardened gaze glaring at Stoneteller. His night-colored fur was bristling, his stance showing that he wasn't afraid to get into a fight. The only thing that seemed to calm him was the rhythmic stroking of the silver she-cat's tail on his flank.

"You have eaten well?" Stoneteller asked as he approached. The small ginger she-cat's ear flicked.

"Very well, thanks," the dark tabby tom replied. "It's good of you to share prey with us."

Mist's eyes narrowed. _Why thank us, strangers?_

Stoneteller echoed her thoughts. "Why wouldn't we?" he sounded surprised. "The prey is not ours – it belongs to the stones and the mountains."

He sat down in front of the forest cats, his tail wrapping around his paws. Mist circled to stand beside him, her tail flicking. _They sure are strange._ The dark tom watched them expectantly.

"Crag you already know," meowed Stoneteller, introducing the cats grouped around him. "He is the leader of our cave-guards, the cats who protect this place," he added, when the forest cats looked confused. "This"— he flicked his tail at Mist —"is Mist Where Sunlight Shimmers. She is one of our best prey-hunters."

Mist dipped her head and blinked at the forest cats, trying to look interested and friendly.

_We can't give anything away yet._

"And this," Stoneteller went on, indicating Star, "is Star That Shines on Water. For now she is a kit-mother, though when her kits are grown she will go back to being a cave-guard."

"You all have different duties, then?" the tortoiseshell she-cat questioned, as the other forest cats murmured greetings.

_Of course we do._ _Are we supposed to do things that we're not good at?_ Mist was confused.

"We do," Stoneteller replied.

"Do you choose the best fighters to be cave guards, and the fastest cats to be prey-hunters?" The dark silver tom asked, looking fascinated in spite of his obvious wariness.

Stoneteller twitched his whiskers in disagreement. "No. All the cats in our Tribe are born to their duties. That is our way. But tell us something about yourselves," he went on, interrupting the small ginger she-cat as she opened her mouth to speak. "Why are you making this long journey? We have never seen cats like you before."

Mist caught the dark tabby tom giving the silver tom a sideways glance. The dark tom murmured something to they silver tom, and Mist strained her ears. _What are they saying?_ After a few shared mutterings, the forest cats leaned away from each other.

The dark tabby nodded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and began to explain about the dreams each of the four chosen cats had received from something called StarClan, and different omens and signs that led them to the sea where they had met a strange, cat speaking badger.

Mist felt more of her Tribemates gathering warily around her to listen. She saw them give the dark tabby several admiring glances as he described the dangers that the forest cats had faced; but there was some suspicious muttering too, as if some of them found it hard to trust the strangers.

But Mist felt different. Whatever strangeness these forest cats showed, they had come a long way. And soon, there path would be stopped. Mist blinked in discomfort. They would have to trap the forest cats to stop them from leaving. But the crime of capturing was for the good of the Tribe.

Sharptooth had to be stopped before he tore the Tribe apart with his killings. The only way to stop him was to find the silver cat. And the silver furred cat was standing right in front of them, so close that he could be taken away from his companions in seconds. Mist felt her tail lower to land on the cold stone.

"Don't worry," the very silver tom that she had been thinking about put in, when the dark tabby paused in his story, "StarClan hasn't sent us to fight you. They didn't say anything about meeting you, in fact."

"StarClan?" Mist echoed, glancing at Stoneteller in bewilderment. "What is StarClan?"

The tortoiseshell forest she-cat stifled an exclamation of surprise. Mist was as confused as ever. What was StarClan? Was it something to do with the Tribe of Endless Hunting?

"Do not be troubled," Stoneteller meowed, touching his tail tip to Mist's shoulder reassuringly. "Not all cats believe as we do, and we must respect that which we do not know. Ignorance is nothing to be afraid of. Please"— he gestured towards the dark tabby with one paw —"continue."

"So at last we came to the sun-drown water and discovered that Midnight is a badger," the dark tabby explained. "She told us the meaning of StarClan's prophecy, and now we're going home to tell the clans."

"A prophecy?" Stoneteller meowed. His eyes was fixed on the dark silver tom with intensity. "Then you too have visions of what is hidden?"

"Well, sometimes we have dreams," the tortoiseshell she-cat meowed. "But mostly our medicine cats interpret signs for us – clouds, the flight of birds, the fall of leaves . . ."

"This I do also," Stoneteller mewed.

The conversation was stopped as a group of Tribe cats appeared in the entrance of the main cave. Rising to his paws, he muttered, "Forgive me, these are cave-guards returning from patrol. I must hear what they have to tell me." Ducking his head in farewell, he turned towards the approaching patrol.

_That sure was . . . different._ Mist thought, her mind whirling. _They have come a long way, and they are so similar to us! They have their own ancestors and Tribemates just as we do._

Mist's heart hardened.

_But they won't be returning to their own Tribemates anytime soon._

She watched as Crag padded off to meet with Stoneteller and the patrol.

_Sharptooth will be coming soon . . . what will happen then?_ _Will the silver tom succeed?_ Her gaze turned to the tabby as he stood beside his sister. _He doesn't look like he will be able to do it. We have sent so many strong warriors after Sharptooth – how will this scrawny little tom be able to fight off such an immense opponent?_

"Are you okay?" Mist shook herself out of her thoughts as the tortoiseshell she-cat blinked at her curiously. "You look worried. Is something wrong?"

_Everything is wrong!_

"Are you being attacked by another Tribe?" the small ginger she-cat had approached Mist now, and she felt uncomfortable under the weight of the suspicious stares on her pelt. Star nudged her softly.

"No, there are no cats to attack us," Star replied, giving Mist a hard look. "There are no others in the mountains that we know of. How could there be another Tribe when we guard the Cave of Pointed Stones?"

"What's that?" meowed the small black tom. It was the first time Mist had heard his voice, and he sounded very young. Too young to bear such hardships on a journey as this.

His question was ignored.

"Should we tell them?" Mist shot Star a quick glance. No forest cats were meant to catch the words, but Mist saw the silver tabby tom start as he heard the whispers.

Mist heard Sky of No Stars hiss behind her, and she turned slightly to see glares in her direction. Her fur pricked up in fear and shame. She had spoken too loudly.

"What are you afraid of?" The silver tom persisted, his fur bristling slightly in anticipation.

"Nothing," Star cut in. "Or nothing we may speak of." She dipped her head to the forest cats, and walked away, gesturing with her tail for Mist to follow her.

She couldn't help but throw a glance behind her at the forest cats, her gaze filled with dread.

_ You should never set paw inside the mountains. Now you must pay for your mistakes._

* * *

**Anyone recognize that? Huh?**

**Yes, this is the scene in Moonrise when the journeying cats first find the Tribe :3 Except, I have completely rewritten it the way I see it from a Tribe cat's point of view. The only thing that is the same, is the diologue.**

**Happy readings and writings WillowClanners!**

**~Mistyfrost of WillowClan (a. k. a. Shadowmist)**


	3. July: Unbreakable

**I'm here for the Monthly Writing Challenge again! :D This month is July. Unless you're stupid and didn't know that.**

**We had a different prompt thing happen this time. We each got a song to write off of.**

**Prompt/Song: Everytime We Touch – Cascada**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, or some of the names. You'll see what I mean.**

**Unbreakable**

* * *

As the moon beat down upon the blood on the grass, the red didn't gleam as much as it had. The wind seemed as if it was trying to calm the energy in the clearing, sweeping through like gentle waves of the Sea. Mordred still felt the terror and bloodlust of before though, and his heart beat against his ribcage as if it wanted to break free from his chest.

The leaf-bare had been cold, and the night had been long, and the battle had been deadly. _Huh. Just as Merlin had said. He's a powerful Druid if I ever did see one._

The Chilled had been terrorizing the Druids ever since they arrived in this place. But they shared a common enemy together. The Kin had finally left the Druids in peace, after the terrorizing tortures they had preformed coldly upon the ragged group of cats. The Kin had left to find a new, more plentiful land to provide to their young. And they had started bestowing their tortures anew upon another group of cats, a stronger and more dangerous gathering than the Druids. The Clans. That's what they had been called.

Yes, the Clans had been strong, but the Kin was still stronger. The Clans fought for their pride and land, but they still crumbled and wasted, and were soon slaves to the Kin as the Druids had been before. Meanwhile, the Druids were daywalks away, trying to piece back together the life they once had, before the terrible Kin had arrived.

Then Streakstar of the Clan of the River gathered his pitiful followers together and set off, to find that they had another enemy in their newfound home away from the Kin. The Druids weren't keen to give away their land after the incidents with the Kin. The Clans were no exception, and bloody battles were forged together to create a new life for the Druids and newly named Clans, The Chilled. The Chilled may once have been Clans, but any once of culture was drained from each cat. Helplessness, hunger, pain, death, decay. It was all that was tangible anymore.

The Kin were gone, but an endless battle raged on for life.

OoooO

Mordred crept through the undergrowth, his eyes searching helplessly for any trace of white fur. The forest was dark, yet creaking with life and hidden creatures. Shadows moved and played in Mordred's peripheral vision, whispering and hissing with laughter and unknown fear. The leaves rustled against each other, a kind of song; something to be sung over the deathnest of a loved one. Sad and slow, filled with pain and agony and anger. Creeping and waiting, whispering and watching.

Mordred's paws were soundless as he ghosted over the moss carpeted ground. The blood-soaked clearing was long left behind him, the salty tang almost leaving his nostrils. He took in a slow deep breath and shivered as he smelt the beautifully pure air. It wasn't often that he could take a breath and not smell death. It was only slightly comforting, as death was all he had ever known. His mother and father, already in Death's clutches, shortly joined by his little sister. Everything gone, nothing left to care for.

Except for one thing.

_ White fur, white fur, white fur – where is she?_

And then her sweet scent was playing around in the air, and his face was in her beautiful, seemingly star-laden fur. Her laugh tinkled through the silence, and he felt his thumping heart finally calm.

"Oh, I thought you had been one of them on the ground," Mordred whispered softly, pressing his muzzle to hers. His entire body was shaking as he felt as if the weight of the stars had been lifted off of his shoulders. "You're okay. _You're okay_."

"Of course I am." Mordred opened his eyes to see her sparkling blue gaze, shining with tears in the darkened shadows. She was trying to smile, but he could see that she was shaking as well.

"So many bodies, I'm sorry, I couldn't help_–_ "

"Shh. I'm fine, you're fine, and that's all that matters." Mordred saw her effort to keep her voice steady.

His eyes softened. "I love you, Guinevere. You know that, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I love you too, mousebrain. We've been through this a hundred times." He ignored the confusing word 'mousebrain' she used a lot.

"Yes, but . . . we can't do this forever. Maybe we should . . ." Mordred's gaze dropped to his paws.

Guinevere's eyes widened with pain and her ears flattened. "Mordred, we can't! You know how my father_–"_

"I _do_ know! But, if we really love each other, we must decide soon. Morgana's getting suspicious. We have to act fast." Mordred's words were streaming out in a rush, his heart staring up again. Would Gwen refuse? She _had_ to come.

"I . . ." Guinevere's mouth opened to speak, but words seemed to fail her. Of course she wouldn't want to leave her father, the only cat she had in the Chilled, for her mother had been killed by Mordred's own leader. He was a Druid, and she was a Chilled. The daughter of the Chilled leader, really. Of course it was hard, but he would never give up. If he didn't have her, he would be nothing. He looked at her short white fur, her tiny frame, her crystal blue eyes. Nothing would be the same if he didn't have her.

"_Please._"

She shuddered and dropped into a crouch, her tail slowly drooping to the ground, her shoulders hunched. So many battles, so many deaths, so much pain and suffering. He was sure that she loved him almost as much as he loved her.

"Mordred . . . how? Why can't we just stay here? We could save our families," Guinevere whispered. Her gaze had fallen to the mossy forest floor.

His ears flattened. "We mustn't mess with the leader's battles. We must fight our own and leave others to do the same." His heart hardened as he stared at the bitterly cold sliver of moon in the starless sky. No one would ever be there for him. Unless, perhaps, the exception of Gwen.

Silence fell, and Mordred was left to ponder his thoughts. The wind was getting more and more icy every moment, and his thick black fur was not helping to warm him much anymore. He wouldn't pretend. He hated Gwen's father, and the rest of the Chilled. They were ruthless killers, bent on the destruction of the Druids he worked so hard to protect. They were evil – but that didn't mean Gwen was as well.

He remembered life before everything – everything that had gone so terribly wrong. The time before he even knew the Clans existed, the time when the Kin wasn't even the Kin yet. He had been just a kit when the Druids lived in the Old Gorge with Camelot. Camelot had been their neighbors – friendly and there whenever help was needed. Camelot was led by the strong tom, Arthur. It seemed as if the piece would stay strong forever. But then Mordred's own father murdered Arthur, and life as everyone knew it was thrown into chaos.

Camelot rose up to their vengeance, and melted into the shadows, causing fear and confusion. They attacked any cat that came near them, and could never be defeated. They took prisoners, and none that were taken, by the newly named Kin, were ever seen again. First it was Mordred's father; found bloody and torn after he went out hunting. But the Kin didn't stop then; they took his mother and little sister soon after, first killing the kit and then the queen.

Mordred had no one else but his elder sibling, Morgana, who was a fierce black she-cat that wouldn't talk to anyone but her mate, the Healer, Merlin. The Kin were terrible, and then they suddenly disappeared.

The Druids tried desperately to piece their broken lives back together after they left, before another blow hit them – the arrival of the Clans. They were strung together by some strict set of rules; but slowly, these melted away. The Clans became the Chilled, and were almost as ruthless as the Kin. They had felt the terror of the Kin as well, but they would stoop to Kin-like levels to get what they wanted.

One day, Mordred had wandered near the Old Gorge. The Druids had abandoned it when the Chilled first arrived, and now it rose in the distance, taunting the Druids about what they couldn't have. And then there had been a young white she-cat, stumbling through the forest, terrified when she saw Mordred. He saw her white fur, blue eyes, and familiar silver streak down her spine. Streakstar's daughter had wandered to far past the border. He had meant to kill her – but then found he couldn't bring himself to.

Then he had fallen in love with the white she-cat; and a terrible string of brutal battles started.

_ Why does life have to be so painful?_

"Mordred, I can't leave." His head whipped up as he heard her voice. "It's too hard. I love you, but I know, even if we stay here, we'll be okay. We have to bring our families together before they destroy us. I never want to lose what we have."

He didn't answer as she pressed her face into his chest. All he knew was that, no matter what they did, the Chilled and the Druids would always be enemies. Morgana would never set foot near Gwen's father without trying to kill him. Gwen could never be near any Druid without running away. No Chilled or Druid would get near each other at all. It wouldn't be okay. Trying would result in their deaths.

But he would try. For no one but Guinevere. Yes, he would try if it killed him.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUUN.**

**Review? Enh, yesh. You should. :3**

**Good night! (It's 3 in the afternoon)**

**~reenakitty**


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